


eyes of the ones that were left behind (we're still the same)

by galactic_chiroptera



Series: living a dream that i can't hold [1]
Category: Merlin (TV), The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Crossover, Ficlet, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Librarians Season 1 finale, Mild Hurt/Comfort, and the Loom of Fate, fluff!! the platonic jenkins/merlin brotp you didn't know you needed, sorry this one is so short dudes promise the next one will be longer!!, the VERSE you didnt know you needed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 12:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9440288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galactic_chiroptera/pseuds/galactic_chiroptera
Summary: Galahad is old, now, as old as he- though Merlin can control his appearances, and Galahad doesn’t have nearly as much magic as he does. He looks to be at least in his 70s (and isn’t that a mindfuck, someone younger than him can look decades older), but when Merlin looks at him- truly looks at him, knowing who he is- he can see his father, his mother in him. It’s the eyes, he realizes.Merlin's always had trouble sleeping - a side effect of magically induced immortality. Now, though, he knows he's not the only one.(Set right after the events of Librarians 1x10)





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a snippet from my own personal Merlin-Librarians crossover verse. You'll notice that I take a lot (a LOT) of liberties regarding backstory that hasn't been addressed in canon of both original content. Most of it is my own creation and doesn't coincide with the original stories. That's mainly because - with Lancelot and Arthur dying so early in their lives, and the fact that there's 1500-ish years unaccounted for - it's my verse. [throws sparkles] Pay no attention to the plot holes, and enjoy!

The Annex is quiet as a mouse, in the early hours of the morning. Merlin’s not quite sure where Guardian _(_ _Eve, his brain quietly reminds him)_ and the Librarians _(_ _Cassandra, Jacob, Ezekiel, and now Flynn once again)_ go when they’re not here. When the Library sleeps, when those that don’t have the memories of a thousand years weighing them down. The only sound is the shuffle of paper, of books sliding themselves in and out of the shelves and organizing themselves over and over. Below that, though, as if it’s trying its best not to be heard, is the quiet “clink” of ceramic touching, cup and saucer tapping together to not wake anyone.

Descending the stairs with all the silence of a cat, Merlin catches sight of the flickering candle Jenkins- Galahad- has out on the desk. The warm light illuminates his face, the desk around him, and the small book in front of him. Usually when he’s seen Jenkins write it’s leisurely, his writing small and loopy and concise. But now- after the events of the past few days, father-versus-friends and you-won’t-touch-them waging war in him- his hand is brisk, messy looking even from this distance, at such odds with his usual personality.

Merlin tries to speak, to say something and catch his attention, but something stops him. His voice catches in his throat, stuck behind the rock-hard lump closing off his vocal cords. Galahad is old, now, as old as he- though Merlin can control his appearances, and Galahad doesn’t have nearly as much magic as he does. He looks to be at least in his 70s (and isn’t that a mindfuck, someone younger than him can look decades older), but when Merlin looks at him- truly looks at him, knowing who he is- he can see his father, his mother in him. It’s the eyes, he realizes, as he watches him, and the way he moves; it’s all his mother, all Guinevere.

Guinevere, sweet, motherly Gwen, who saw far too much far too early and was thrown into something she wasn’t quite ready for. Gwen, with her brown eyes that seemed to speak everything and see into your very being. Gwen, who knew about him and watched him grow old and still stayed by his side.

It’s at this moment that those same eyes rise and meet his, set differently but with the same soul and fervent care. Jenkins- Galahad- looks almost… surprised to see him, and Merlin can’t fathom why.

“Merlin?” he says, forgetting to be quiet for a moment. Then, he clears his throat softly and speaks quieter. “Is there… something I can help you with?” Merlin shakes his head, casting his gaze towards where he’s stepping as he descends the second half of the staircase. “What are you doing up at this hour?”

Could ask the same of you, he doesn’t say. Instead, he takes the seat on the other side of Galahad’s desk. They sit in silence for a moment, before-

“I thought you were dead.” Soft, not accusing, not sad. Just a statement.

Galahad flinches as if struck.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Merlin raises his gaze to meet Galahad’s, and is surprised by how his expression is almost pained.

“There…” Galahad pauses, collecting his thoughts. He lets out a soft sigh. “There was never the right time. At first I was… scared to tell you. Afraid you would leave because you were angry I never sought you out, this whole time. And then with the Brotherhood and…” He seems to trip over Lancelot’s name, unsure of what to call him _(_ _Dulacque, Lancelot, Father-)_ and falls silent, pressing his lips into a thin line.

Merlin watches him for a long time, seconds turning into minutes.

“I could never be angry,” he says finally, and Galahad’s head snaps up. “I watched you bleed out on the battlefield. There was nothing I could do.” The block in his throat is back, and he tries in vain to swallow it down. “I had to leave you behind. I couldn’t even face Gwen. But you lived, and not only did you live but you’re _alive.”_

There’s a burn behind his eyes as he remembers, Gawain dragging him onto horseback as he struggles, screams _No, I won’t let her lose someone else, not him-_

(He can almost Arthur’s voice, snide and chiding but always with the razor-thin thread of fondness. “ _Always emotional, weren’t you, Mer-lin? Good thing you’re not a knight.” “Well, this way I don’t have to fight and you still get to boss me around. Win-win situation-”)_ _  
_

He doesn’t remember standing, but suddenly he’s on his feet, moving around the desk, and his arms are around Galahad’s shoulders. For a second Galahad seems shocked, but then he’s returning the hug, Merlin’s face turning into his shoulder and drawing in a shaky breath. It’s odd, feeling smaller than the child he’d watched grow up, but there’s no mistaking the firm embrace.

“It’s good to see you,” he murmurs, and feels Galahad let out a breath he must have been holding.

"You too," he hears, and suddenly the knot in his chest loosens and blossoms into something warm, something more magic than any either of them have.

Life isn’t great, they still put themselves in danger everyday, twice before breakfast - but now there’s more of them. They have each other.


End file.
